


A Different Deal

by Jessica_Bones_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessica_Bones_Winchester/pseuds/Jessica_Bones_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demon!Dean decides to make a few deals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Deal

Freedom. That's what it felt like. Freedom from worry. Freedom from responsibility. Freedom from caring. Dean just didn't care anymore. He had become what he had always hated, and it felt good. After waking up in the bunker, he went with Crowley, but Crowley soon bored him. Dean didn't care about Hell or its business. So, he hit the road. He found an unguarded motorcycle, all black and chrome, and rode off down the highway.

The funny thing was that he could sense demon activity. He was connected to all of it. Most of the time he ignored it, pushing it out of his mind. The exception was the occasional crossroads deal. He had been on the other side of those deals, but now he could be the one holding the contract. And it was a great way to get laid.

Not that he was having trouble in that department. A sexy, bad boy on a motorcycle never had much trouble with the ladies. Since he broke away from Crowley, there was a different woman every night. There was just something different about the crossroads deals.

Dean was driving down a stretch of road in Oklahoma when he felt a deal happening. He detoured to the spot, kicking up dust where the black top ran out, and pulled up on a very surprised demon in a blonde woman's body.

"Winchester," she grumbled. "What do you want?"

Dean lowered the kickstand and eyed the brunette woman standing in front of the demon. His gaze swept over her as he walked around her, until it reached her eyes, then he gave her a wink.

"I'm taking over this deal," Dean said.

"Like hell you are," the demon said.

Dean turned to the demon and his eyes went pitch black. The demon took one step back and disappeared as the corner of Dean's mouth turned up into a wicked grin. His attention fell back to the woman who was ready to trade her soul. For what, he wondered.

"So," he said, "where did she leave off?"

"She, uh... she said I could have ten years before I go to..."

The woman paused and looked down.

"To Hell," Dean said. His tone was unwavering. No sympathy. Just fact. The woman nodded. "And what is it that you want? What's worth your soul?"

"My sister... She's dying. I want her to get better and live a normal, healthy life."

Dean circled around the woman. Death or illness was often a reason for people showing up at a crossroads looking for a deal. He no longer felt the pain, but he remembered the pain involved when these deals were made. So, he started offering alternative deals. He would offer it to her. His hands were already itching to touch her.

"What if I told you," he said as he slowly continued to circle around her, "that you don't have to end up in Hell?"

Her head snapped around to follow him. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. Just a different deal."

"What's the deal?"

Dean smiled as he stood in front of her again. "You're mine tonight."

"Yours how? You want to use my soul for one night?"

"I couldn't care less about taking people's souls. I'm just looking to have a little fun," Dean said. He stepped closer to her, and she instinctively took a step back, but Dean grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his chest. "I want your body. The deal is, you do whatever I want, for as long as I want."

The woman's eyes grew wide. "But you're a demon."

"Which is why I can make this offer." His eyes flashed black for just a moment. "You don't have to take my deal," he said as he let her go and took a step back. "I can get that red-eyed bitch back here and you can go to Hell for all eternity. That's after the Hell Hounds rip you apart in ten years, by the way."

"Hell Hounds?"

"Black dogs? Demonic beasts? Claws that will tear you to ribbons. Or, you could take my deal. You live, your sister lives... and maybe you even enjoy yourself."

Dean took the woman's chin between his thumb and forefinger as he smiled.

"No fine print," the woman asked.

"None. I just get to have my way with you for a while."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay. It's a deal." Her eyes opened at the sensation of Dean's fingers brushing over her neck and gripping the back of her head. "So, is there a contract to sign or..."

"No."

"Then how do we seal the deal?"

"Like this."

He pulled her lips to his and kissed her hard. His tongue forced its way into her mouth before he pulled back.

"It's a deal," he said. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You're mine now." His eyes turned black as his hands fell to his belt. "On your knees."

The woman hesitated, so Dean put his hands on her shoulders and firmly pushed down. She went down to her knees and looked up.

"This is going to sound stupid, considering the circumstances," she said, "but I don't even know your name. Do you have a name?"

"It's Dean," he said as he freed himself from his jeans. "And now that you now it, I expect you to scream it."

"My name is Wendy."

"I don't care," Dean said.

He pulled her head forward and watched as she slowly took him into her mouth. She picked up the pace a little, but Dean wasn't ready for that. He wanted to draw it out, so he put his hands into her hair, grabbing a fist-full in one, and slowed her movement.

She pleasured him for several minutes before his hips jerked forward as he fought to keep control. Wendy whimpered, and the sound sent a vibration through Dean that hit him hard. He held Wendy's head still and started to thrust himself into her mouth, in fast, short strokes, until he let himself go. Wendy held onto his thighs, still wrapped in his jeans, to steady herself.

Dean pulled away and tucked himself back in, but Wendy didn't move. Dean reached out his hand and, when Wendy took it, he pulled her into his chest so hard that the impact forced air from her lungs. He kissed her as he moved her toward his motorcycle, then lifted her up to sit sideways in the seat. Wendy opened her legs to allow Dean to get closer, and he wrapped his arms around her tight as his lips moved down her neck. His hands slipped beneath her shirt and squeezed her breasts through her bra.

"You've got on too much clothing," Dean growled against her neck.

In one swift motion, he pulled his hands from under her shirt, grabbed the neckline, and ripped it down the middle. Wendy let out a gasp, and a grin tugged at Dean's lips. He licked his way down to the swell of her breasts, and pulled the cups of her bra down. Wendy moaned when he took one of her nipples into his mouth. She tried not to think about the fact that they were on the side of the road. An almost deserted road, but still a road that a car could drive down at any moment.

Dean gave each breast equal attention before he pulled away. He brought his lips back to hers, just lightly touching, unmoving. Wendy leaned in, but Dean pulled back. He smiled when she whimpered.

"There we go," he whispered, and his lips crashed onto hers.

Wendy's hands slipped beneath Dean's leather jacket and gripped the shirt at his back. Her hands slipped down to cup his butt and pull him closer. Dean's lips moved down to her neck, and she took the opportunity to catch her breath.

"Oh, yeah," Dean said against her skin. "You want me don't you?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she squeezed his rear for emphasis.

She heard Dean snap his fingers, and she was suddenly in a bedroom, on a large bed, with Dean on top of her, still kissing her neck. In a panic, she tried to sit up, but Dean held her down.

"Relax," he said. His voice was smooth and deep.

"Where are we?"

"My place," he said. "I wanted a nice, soft mattress to pound you into."

Wendy's eyes flew open wide, and Dean laughed. He pulled off her bra. "You'll love it," he said, and flicked his tongue over her breast.

He slowly undid her jeans as he suckled at her breasts. He pulled them down just enough that he could get his hand between her legs, and he firmly rubbed back and forth over her panties. Wendy moaned and thrust her hips toward his hand. Her hands went into his hair, but Dean grabbed her wrists and shoved them away. She felt her wrists pinned to the bed, but Dean wasn't touching them. The panic began to rise again, and she tried to sit up. She could barely lift her head. Her arms were glued to the spot.

"Why can't I move?"

Dean looked up from her breast. "One of the perks of being a demon," he said with a grin. "I can pin you down, and still have my hands free to make you feel real good."

He applied more pressure between her legs, and she moaned. Her eyes closed and she let her head fall back into the pillow.

"Good girl," Dean said. "Or are you a bad girl? Making a deal with a demon... and you're so wet for me."

Dean kissed his way back up to her lips, but his hand never left its task between her legs.

"Are you a bad girl," he asked.

She seemed to think about it for a moment. "I guess so."

"You guess so? Well, I guess I'll just have to make you sure, won't I?"

He practically growled as he spoke. He sat up so fast that Wendy barely had time to register that he was pulling her pants from her. Her underwear followed. She watched, unable to move, as he stripped off his own clothes before climbing back up her body. He stopped for a moment to lick at her core. She let out a yelp as her hips bucked up, but they were soon held down by the same invisible force holding her wrists. She struggled against it, whimpering and moaning.

"Please..."

Dean ignored her plea.

"Oh, shit. Please... I'm a bad girl," she said breathlessly.

Dean kissed and licked back up to her mouth. "That's what I thought," he said.

He plunged into her and freed her hips and wrists. There was no waiting for her to adjust to the intrusion. A stream of moans and cries came from her as her nails dug deep into his shoulders.

"Bad girls like it rough, don't they," Dean growled.

"Yes... Yes..."

He made good on his promise to pound her into the mattress. He didn't stop until she screamed his name several times. His eyes went pitch black as he gave his final thrust, and he landed on top of her with a grunt.

Dean rolled onto his back and took a deep breath. He looked to his side and saw Wendy with her hands in her hair, still trembling with aftershocks.

"How do I get back to my car," she asked.

"I can pop you back, the same way we got here." He turned over and fisted his hand into her hair. "But who says I'm done with you? The deal was all night. You're still mine."


End file.
